Courtship
by GundamDelta6
Summary: Courtship: noun: the means by which a man seeks the affections of a woman, usu. with the intent of marriage. Tag to 5x17: "The Social Contract" Second in the Stronger Than Vicodin series.


Title: Courtship

Category: House, M.D.

Pairing: House/Cuddy

Genre: General/Romance

Set: 5x17 "The Social Contract"

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Courtship: noun: the means by which a man seeks the affections of a woman, usu. with the intent of marriage.

Author's Notes: Second tag in my Stronger Than Vicodin series. This takes place after the scene with the patient making sexual remarks about Cuddy and Thirteen while House is watching from the darkened observation room. Rated for sexual references. No sex in this one though, sorry.

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Lisa Cuddy had just settled back into her office after that embarrassing experience in the MRI chamber. The conversation with House afterward…Her thoughts turned to the week before. A heated blush covered her face and she tried to force it back as there was a tapping at her door.

"Come in," she choked out, surprised when the very man she'd just been thinking about cracked the door open and stuck his head in. "House…" He raised an eyebrow at her as he walked in, closing the door behind him and drawing the blinds. "What are you doing?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her and leaning back in her chair.

"Making sure no one can look in on us," he answered, turning the lock on the door before turning to face her. "So…you didn't enjoy that even a little?" House quirked a brow as he started to limp towards her desk, his cane barely making a sound against the carpeted floor. "You certainly enjoyed what I did for you last week." He smirked triumphantly when she blushed.

"Having your patient make sexual remarks about me is not enjoyable in the least." Cuddy stared at House, daring him to contradict her. "And last week was…a mistake." His suddenly crestfallen look confused her. "It shouldn't have happened, House. You know it, and I know it." His look suddenly changed.

"Do you remember what I told you last week? When we're alone-"

"-call you Greg. Yeah. I remember." Cuddy cut him off, sighing heavily. Why she felt so inclined to follow such a whim was beyond her. But it felt right. "We're not alone though. There's four doctors, two nurses, and fifteen patients on the other side of that door."

"We're alone in this room, Lisa," he pointed out. "The clinic doesn't count as part of your office, so the people in the clinic don't count. We're alone." He raised a hand and gestured to her to stand up and come over to him. Making it obvious she was doing this reluctantly, she stood and compromised. She walked around to the other side of her desk and leaned against the edge. Quirking a brow, he stumped over and stood in front of her.

"Exactly what part of last week was a mistake? Doing it at your place? Not kicking me out before we had sex? Not kicking me out after we had sex?"

"Try all of the above," Cuddy shot back, ashamed of herself for letting him get to her. "We were both vulnerable…"

"No we weren't. I was," he admitted quietly. "I needed something that night. Something that proved I wasn't a complete failure." He raised his left hand to stroke her face, smiling slightly when she leaned into his touch. "You were that something, Lisa." Leaning in, he brushed his lips gently over hers. She didn't push back this time. She didn't cave, either.

"We can't do this, Greg," she whispered. "You have a patient to take care of." She realized belatedly that the phrasing she'd used implied that she would have no problem doing this if he hadn't had a case. And he knew that. That damned smirk on his lips proved it.

"My team's taking care of him. That _is_ why I hired them…or rather, you made me hire them." His fingertips moved against her cheek again and she sighed. House leaned back in, testing her resolve. His lips just barely touched hers this time and she suddenly surged against him as she had the previous week when he'd had her pinned against his door. The memory turned him on, and he pressed his lips harder against hers. Although, he had to keep asking himself why he was kissing her in the first place.

It wasn't like he felt anything for her. She was his _boss_ for crying out loud! Deciding he could use the intimacy as a way of getting what he wanted, he contemplated that possibility. Pulling away, his eyes searched hers, and he parted his lips to speak. A trilling sound filled the room instead of his voice. Grumbling, he backed away from Cuddy slightly, pulling his pager away from his belt and glancing at it. Well, well, well. It looked like fate would work in his favor today after all.

"What is it?" Cuddy asked, breath hitched. House did not answer her, sweeping his hand back across her cheek tenderly after reattaching his pager to his belt. His fingers trailed through her hair, locking themselves in the dark curls. Her lips were still parted from her question. Slowly he moved himself closer to her, pressing his body up against hers. His lips found hers again, and his tongue wormed its way into her waiting mouth. He smirked when she moaned into his mouth, pressing his lips against hers harder, thrusting his tongue deeper into her mouth. He backed off just slightly when he felt her tongue seeking a way past his. He let her in, their tongues tangled together. Blindly, he hooked his cane on the edge of her desk, raising his right hand to knead her breast through her clothes. The material of her jacket shifted under his fingers as he massaged the mound of flesh. Wanting, needing, better access, he moved his hand, relishing in the groan of protest she made, muffled by their kiss. Unfastening the buttons of the blazer, he slid the material aside, cupping her breast again through her shirt.

Pulling her closer, feeling her hands rising to wrap themselves around his neck, feeling her press herself against him, his cock twitched in his jeans, and he gasped. Now wasn't the time though. Carefully, he eased her back, sliding his hand down her side, growling into Cuddy's mouth as his fingers encountered the waistband of her skirt. Tugging the edge of her shirt out of her skirt, he began to feel suddenly light headed. Breaking the kiss, he took in the sight of Cuddy's swollen lips and imagined that his looked no different. Gasping for much needed air, his hand snaked up under her shirt, maneuvering his fingers across her breast over the lacy fabric of her bra.

"There's some damage near the patient's brain stem," he managed to get out through his ragged breathing, answering her nearly-forgotten question. He hissed suddenly, drawing back. Mourning the loss of contact with Cuddy's body, he fell back into the closest chair, pulling the old familiar prescription bottle from his blazer pocket. Dry swallowing the Vicodin, he replaced the container, waiting impatiently for the drug to take effect.

"Do you regret giving up the methadone?" she asked, panting for breath. House looked at her, a contemplative look. "You were finally happy…"

"Drug induced happiness is not true happiness," he pointed out. "No. I don't regret giving it up. I screwed up, remember? Or did the sex block that part out?" Her words stayed with him though. She still seemed to care about whether or not he was actually happy. Did she….? He sighed heavily, unable to contemplate the end of that thought. The only reason he would care whether or not she felt anything for him would be if he felt something for her.

Which he didn't. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

But then, why? Why, if he felt nothing for Lisa Cuddy, did he continue to pursue her like this? The sex the previous week had been a way to get information out of her. A way to get her emotionally vulnerable enough to tell him what she'd held back. It hadn't worked, of course, but he had to maintain the image that it meant something real to him, or else risk being labeled a 'heartless bastard'.

Why had he paged her down to the MRI chamber to make her listen to the patient make sexual comments about her…sexual comments that he came excruciatingly close to making himself every single day. Of course, the patient had been a bit more explicit than House had ever dreamed of being. But that didn't mean that wasn't what he felt. House knew when to draw the line; knew that if it had been him saying those things instead of his patient, he would be out of a job.

Why had he followed her out to ask her if she'd found it nearly as amusing as he had? Why had he followed her up to her office and made sure the room was safe from prying eyes? Why had he found himself with his tongue down her throat if he felt absolutely nothing for her?

Manipulation, he decided. Telling himself he was using sex to manipulate his boss was safer than telling himself that he felt something for her that he'd only ever felt for one other person in his entire life.

Telling himself that he was manipulating his boss was easier than admitting to himself that he cared for another human being. Cared on a deep personal level. Caring beyond what he felt for Wilson.

Manipulating people was the only way he knew how to hide his true motives from them. He manipulated his Fellows into doing his bidding to hide the fact that he cared whether or not the patient actually lived. He manipulated Wilson to hide the fact that he was eternally grateful that the other man was his best friend. He manipulated Cuddy to hide…what was he always trying to hide from Cuddy anyway? He had nothing to hide from her.

And what had been going through his head last week? Sure, he'd wanted Cuddy. Wanted to see her writhe underneath him. Wanted to hear her moan out his name. He'd gotten it. He'd bedded his boss, denying to himself his true reasons for doing so. Did that make him a bastard because he felt no fulfillment afterwards? Surely his inner motives would have been satisfied?

Was it entirely possible he did feel something?

"Greg….?" her voice broke his musings. "You got quiet…not that I'm complaining."

"Sorry…" he answered. Then paused. He was actually apologizing? To Cuddy, of all people. "I've got to go…gotta get an update on the patient's condition." He gestured for Cuddy to hand over his cane, which she did without question. Hauling himself up from the chair, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her throat. "I'll be back if I need something." Unsure of what had made him kiss her neck, he backed away, turning and heading back to the door.

"I'll be here," Cuddy answered, watching him turn the lock and open the door. He paused, turned his head as if he wanted to say something, but kept walking, the door swinging shut behind him.

* * *

Well, that's it for this week, at least in regards to the series...new episode tag next week. See you there!


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